Art Eyewitness Looks at the Art Scene during 2025

 

Reflections on the Art Scene during 2025

Text by Ed Voves

Original Photography by Anne Lloyd

On September 17, 1787, after three contentious months of debate and compromise, the delegates of the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia affixed their signatures to the document which would soon become the framework of the government of the United States. As they did so, Benjamin Franklin made a short, candid remark, referring to the design of a radiant sun which decorated the chair from which George Washington had presided over the convention proceedings.

The Rising Sun Armchair

 (George Washington's chair at the Constitutional Convention of 1787)

Benjamin Franklin's "remark" has gone down in history. James Madison records the moment.

Doct FRANKLIN looking towards the Presidents Chair, at the back of which a rising sun happened to be painted, observed to a few members near him, that Painters had found it difficult to distinguish in their art a rising from a setting sun. I have said he, often and often in the course of the Session, and the vicissitudes of my hopes and fears as to its issue, looked at that behind the President without being able to tell whether it was rising or setting: But now at length I have the happiness to know that it is a rising and not a setting Sun.

"A rising and not a setting sun."

These prophetic words shall set the tone for the Art Eyewitness 2025 reflections. This year's valedictory essay, more than earlier annual reviews, is as much a look forward, as it is a reappraisal of what transpired during the past twelve months. 

It's important, however, to attend to the first order of New Years business. Our reflections and prognostications must not cause us to forget the most important duty we owe to all those who touched our lives during 2025: gratitude.

Here at Art Eyewitness, we wish to thank all and sundry in the world of art. And in our "cup of kindness" for the old year, we are adding a wee, extra dram of appreciation for:

The reopening of the Frick Collection in its magnificent 5th Ave oasis of art.

The astounding "once in an eternity" exhibition at The Met, Divine Egypt.

A sojourn with the Etruscans at the Institute for the Study of the Ancient World.

An eye-opening visit to the world of Henri Rousseau at the Barnes Foundation.

So much to be thankful for ... and yet, with the passing year, so many sobering thoughts.

From an artistic standpoint, Benjamin Franklin's comments on the difficulty of artists "to distinguish in their art a rising from a setting sun" is extremely astute. It really is problematic, oftentimes, to discern in a picture whether it is "sun-up" or "sun-down" as the following photos attest.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Images of sunrise & sunset, Philadelphia, PA. Top, dawn, December 25, 2025, 7:38 AM. Bottom, dusk, December 14, 2025, 4:25 PM.

It is even harder to judge whether a nation or culture is flourishing or in decline. This was the cause of Franklin's anxiety during the debates on the Constitution. Many are in a similar, pensive mood in our troubled times.

Perhaps most difficult of all is the task of discovering if the art and literature of a society is enlightening or obscuring the issues of the "day" and of the deeper, more profound principles, foundational for the security and happiness of humanity across the ages.

With Franklin's "rising and not a setting sun" remark to guide us, let's focus our thoughts on past and future.

Of immediate concern, 2026 marks the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. The Constitutional Convention of 1787 was the culmination of the search for an equitable form of representative government which commenced with the 1776 Declaration of Independence. However, as John Adams noted, the real American Revolution had begun even earlier, in the "hearts and minds" of the American people.

Red letter dates like 1776 or 1787 are often very arbitrary benchmarks. Human beings, however, need such "signposts" in order to keep their cultural bearings. During the coming year, almost all major American museums will host some sort of an exhibition observing the Semiquincentennial. 

The American Folk Art Museum has announced two thoughtful exhibitions, both opening in April 2026: Folk Nation: Crafting Patriotism in the U.S. and Self-Made: A Century of Inventing Artists. 

Anonymous U.S. artist, Situation of America, 1848. 

(New York City skyline from the Brooklyn Docks across the East River.)

 Collection of the American Folk Art Museum, N.Y.C.

The populist nature of these two exhibitions is very much in keeping with the mission of the American Folk Art Museum. But these themes are also noteworthy of the diversified, yet "inclusive" content of many contemporary exhibitions. This is an issue which looms large in the coming year.

Instead of stressing the "from the many - one" bonds of American unity, many exhibitions now emphasize the importance of the individual artist or of social groups ignored or marginalized in the established narratives of history. It is important to give credit to all, of course. But that is easier said than done. 

In the coming year, there is likely to be considerable disagreement on what is the  true nature of art in a democratic society. Our art museums, hopefully, will be places where cooler heads and open hearts prevail. 

To safeguard art museums as common ground for humanity is certainly asking and expecting a lot from institutions whose hard-working staff members already labor with complex tasks and daunting deadlines. 

Yet, museums, "shrines of the muses", are not just buildings with pictures on their walls.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of the 19th century European painting galleries at The Met. At right is The Storm by the Pierre-Auguste Cot (1880).

Given the constraints of existing gallery space, the availability - or not - of important works on loan from other museums, the interest level of patrons and many another factor, mounting a successful exhibition can be fraught with difficulty. Often an exhibition of merit fails to achieve success in terms of visitor numbers for reasons beyond the control of its curators. 

A case in point was The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910, presented at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, April to July 2025.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 The entrance to The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910. The  camera comes from the collection of the Penumbra Foundation.

The New Art had much to recommend it. The design of the exhibit was visually enticing, with a number of vintage cameras to set the scene. There were superb photos on view, daguerreotypes, cartes de visite, stereographs and cyanotypes, by some of the early American masters of the lens, like Carleton Watkins.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910.

Finally, there was an important sub-theme of The New Art, namely that there are untapped riches in the photography produced in the American hinterlands beyond the celebrated studio of Matthew Brady.

Impressed though I was with The New Art, I had an uneasy, difficult-to-define "vibe" about it. I could not suppress the feeling that this exhibition was not going to achieve the full measure of success it deserved.

On July 18, 2025, The Met press office released its annual fiscal year report. FY25 was a very good year for The Met. Visitorship was 5.7 million for the year. The Met continued to make spectacular gains after the heart-rending events of 2020, when Covid-19 blighted the museum's 150th anniversary.

 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of Sargent and Paris, showing Madame X.

Several 2025 Met exhibitions registered such phenomenal attendance numbers that these stats were noted in the press release. Sargent and Paris topped the list at 427,000 visitors with more than a week to go after the press release was made public. Very encouraging was the reception of Caspar David Friedrich: the Soul of Nature, 300,000 attending. Few exhibits of German art have ever played to such a packed audience in a U.S. museum.

Alas, The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910 was not listed among 

The Met's star performers for FY25. 

Might The New Art have done so, had it been presented in tandem with a complementary exhibition? The Morgan Library's Julia Margaret Cameron and Jane Austen exhibits, shown across the hall from each other in the Morgan-Stanley galleries, did exactly that.

Ed Voves, Photo (2025)

 Gallery views of Morgan Library & Museum exhibits, summer 2025. Arresting Beauty: Julia Margaret Cameron (left);

A Lively Mind: Jane Austen at 250.

Second guessing, like this, only goes so far. Though museum directors and curators are quick to praise colleagues, supporting staff, museum board members and patron institutions, there is no substitute for leadership. A museum with a strong CEO at the helm can navigate through rough seas; without, the museum is in danger of sinking.

During 2025, two incidents, each involving a major Philadelphia art institution, testified to the maritime metaphors, above, in striking fashion.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Thom Collins, executive director and president of the Barnes Foundation

In terms of a strong museum "helmsman", one could hardly find a better example than Thom Collins of the Barnes Foundation. Nor could a better time be found to acknowledge his achievements than 2025. 

This marked the tenth year of Collins' stewardship as executive director and president of the Barnes. It was also the centennial year of the formal opening of the Barnes as an educational institute, beginning on March 19, 1925. 

Controversy long plagued the Barnes Foundation, regarding who was admitted into the inner "sanctum" of its classical edifice in suburban Philadelphia - and who was rejected. It has been Collins' overarching mission to manage the Barnes as a public institution after it relocated to center city Philadelphia in 2012. 

At the same time, Collins was tasked with continuing the "Barnes Method" of art instruction and retaining the remarkable, if idiosyncratic, arrangement of art works. These are not minor concerns nor are they duties which other museum directors must face.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of the Barnes Foundation, showing

 Vincent van Gogh's The Postman (Joseph-Etienne Roulin), 1889

 

Despite an abiding dedication to Dr. Barnes' methodology, the Barnes Foundation under Collins' direction is no longer a collection preserved in "amber." When the Henri Rousseau exhibition closes at the Barnes in February, it will travel to the Musée de l’Orangerie. A sizable contingent works by Rousseau from the Barnes collection will appear in the Paris version of the exhibition. It is the first time since the international showing of Barnes' masterworks in the 1990's that a major loan of paintings from the Barnes Foundation will occur.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of the Calder Garden's Museum, showing

 Alexander Calder's Jerusalem Stabile II, 1976.

The full extent of the leadership qualities of Thom Collins was revealed in 2025 by two significant events beyond the walls of the Barnes Foundation. 

On September 21, 2025, Calder Gardens, dedicated to the art of Alexander "Sandy" Calder (1898-1976), opened in Philadelphia. Located a short walk from the Barnes, the new museum will be managed by Collins and senior staff from the Barnes (though it will have its own curators). Lastly, Collins and the Barnes have been designated as the operating partner for The Pew Center for Arts & Heritage, taking the place  of the University of the Arts, which closed its doors in 2024.

Needless-to-say, Thom Collins at the Barnes has neither the time nor the occasion to ruminate about the difference between "a rising and not a setting sun." 

I wish I could write in the same positive fashion about the Philadelphia Art Museum. Sadly, indeed sorrowfully, I cannot do so.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 The East-front entrance of the Philadelphia Art Museum

On November 4, 2025, news reports began circulating that the Board of Trustees of the Philadelphia Art Museum had terminated the contract of the museum's CEO, Sasha Suda. It was, at first, a staggering announcement. But, on reflection, signs of deep trouble at the museum had become increasingly apparent.

The next day, Anne and I went to the scheduled press preview of Dreamtime, an ambitious exhibition devoted to Surrealism. Uncertainty and upset at the Philly museum were evident, confirmed by the amount of uncompleted prep work for Dreamtime. Noticeable too was the "beat the clock" determination of the exhibition design team, trying to finish assigning picture captions and mounting wall text before opening day. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Preparation for Dreamtime: Surrealism at 100 at the Philadelphia Art Museum. The painting, at left, is Le Double Secret by René Magritte. 

I have been to press previews before where work needed to be done, a "tweak" here, a "tweak" there. But never on this scale. It was a deeply distressing occasion, unlike any press preview I had ever attended. 

I am happy to say that the finished exhibition is a marvel for the eye and the mind. A special acknowledgement needs be paid to the curator of Dreamtime, Matthew Affron, truly an example of grace under pressure.

An Art Eyewitness review of Dreamtime will appear in the new year.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of Dreamtime: Surrealism at 100

 at the Philadelphia Art Museum.

Less than a month before these events, Sasha Suda had announced a "rebranding" campaign, altering the name of the institution from the Philadelphia Museum of Art to the Philadelphia Art Museum. She did so on her own initiative and without the approval of the Board of Trustees. 

Suda's abrupt image change for the museum caught even members of the Board of Trustees off-guard. She explained her rationale in a publicity release:

The museum has unveiled a new brand that places Philadelphia front and center, celebrating the city's grit, creativity, and industrial heritage... The new identity reflects the museum's transformation into a more engaging and expansive institution."

Suda would have been more accurate in saying "expensive" rather than expansive. Ticket prices are now the same as at The Met and MOMA, $30, and food prices close to New York City levels. Closed galleries and controversial exhibit content have made for upsetting visits to the Philly museum.

Recently a guard approached us at the entrance to a photo gallery with a warning I never thought to hear: 

" Viewer discretion advised." 

These are serious problems which changing the logos on hats and coffee mugs in the gift shop is not going to address. Even replacing a museum CEO is not going to insure a welcoming environment for patrons, especially families with children.

What is true of the Philadelphia Art Museum is true of all museums. What is needed is a searching appraisal of museum culture, followed by affordable ticket prices and exhibitions which uphold core human values.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Philadelphia Art Museum merchandise, showing the new "brand" logo.

At this point in the annual Art Eyewitness essays, I try to conclude with upbeat, reassuring remarks. This year I will "make it a wrap" with one of the most beautiful and moving photos which Anne took during 2025. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Gallery view of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets at the Barnes Foundation, showing Tropical Forest with Monkeys, 1910 

 

This is an image worth a thousand words; a image worthy of America's 250th birthday; an image which calls to mind "a rising and not a setting sun."

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                    

Original photography, copyright of Anne Lloyd

Introductory Image: Anne Lloyd, Photo (2023) Image of Sunset, Philadelphia, PA. Photo taken on December 14, 2025, 4:26 PM.

The Rising Sun Armchair (George Washington’s Chair at the Constitutional Convention of 1787) Made by John Folwell in 1779. Mahogany, height: 153.5 cm, width: 77.5 cm, depth: 58.2 cm Independence Hall, Philadelphia, PA National Park Service (NPS)

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Frick Collection, showing paintings from The Progress of Love series by Jean-Honore Fragonard, 1770-71.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Detail of the Inner Coffin of Nauny, Third Intermediate period, ca. 1050 B.C. On view in the Divine Egypt exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Rethinking Etruria exhibition at ISAW.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of Henri Rousseau: a Painter's Secrets at the Barnes Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, Photos (2025) Images of Sunrise and Sunset, Philadelphia, PA. Top, dawn, December 25, 2025, 7:38 AM. Bottom, dusk, December 14, 2025, 4:25 PM.

Anonymous U.S. artist. Situation of America, 1848. (New York City skyline from the Brooklyn Docks) Oil on wood panel: 34 x 58 1/8 x 1 3/8" (86.4 x 147.6 x 3.5 cm) Collection of the American Folk Art Museum, NYC.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) View of the 19th century European painting galleries at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. At right, is The Storm by the Pierre-Auguste Cot (1880).

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) The entrance to The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910. The camera comes from the collection of the Penumbra Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of The New Art: American Photography, 1839-1910, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Sargent and Paris exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, showing Madame X.

Ed Voves, Photo (2025) Gallery views of the Morgan Library and Museum exhibits, Summer 2025, Arresting Beauty: Julia Magaret Cameron  and A Lively Mind: Jane Austen.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Thom Collins, executive director and president of the Barnes Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Barnes Foundation, showing Vincent van Gogh's The Postman (Joseph-Etienne Roulin).

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Calder Garden's Museum, showing Alexander Calder's Jerusalem Stabile II, 1976.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) The East-front entrance of the Philadelphia Art Museum.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Preparation for the Dreamtime: Surrealism at 100 exhibition at the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of Dreamtime: Surrealism at 100.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Philadelphia Art Museum merchandise, showing the new "brand" logo.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) Gallery view of the Barnes Foundation, showing Henri Rousseau's Tropical Forrest with Monkeys, 1910.

Art Eyewitness Review: Alexey Brodovitch at the Barnes Foundation

Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me

Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia

March 2  - May 19, 2024

Reviewed by Ed Voves

Original photography by Anne Lloyd

The subtitle of the Spring 2024 special exhibition at the Barnes Foundation is particularly well-chosen – “astonish me.”

Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me tells the story of the hugely influential Russian émigré artist/designer and charts his enduring legacy. Brodovitch (1898-1971) fled Russia after the Bolshevik Revolution, exerting a remarkable impact on art and advertising in the United States. But the words “astonish me” have a deeper resonance than merely promoting a thrilling sense of novelty or amazement among delighted readers or spectators.

The act of astonishing can be to shock, to startle, to confound, or to challenge people to start thinking about or seeing the world in new or convention-shattering ways.

Alexey Brodovitch did exactly that, utilizing a most unlikely publication as his medium: Harper’s Bazaar.

Alexey Brodovitch  

Cover illustration for Harper's Bazaar, November 1935

 Collection of Vince Aletti 

Brodovitch was hired in 1934 when Carmel Snow, the editor-in-chief of the trendy fashion magazine, saw examples of Brodovitch’s work at the Art Directors Club exhibition at Rockefeller Center. Brodovitch’s “fresh, new conception of layout technique,” Snow later commented, “struck me like a revelation.”

A revelation and something of a revolution. Joining the editorial staff of Harper’s Bazaar, Brodovitch brought insights and influences from Europe’s “shock of the new” upheaval to the U.S. Brodovitch's innovations have affected artistic design and popular modes of perception, ever since.

Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me is a brilliantly orchestrated enterprise, the inspired work of Katy Wan, a guest curator from the Tate Modern Museum in London. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

 Katy Wan, curator of the Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me exhibition

"Astonishment" is a word which certainly applies to the exhibition at the Barnes. Katy Wan had only a limited number of works of art, created or collected by Brodovitch, available for display. Two house fires destroyed most of Brodovich's archive, his photo negatives and personal collection. Wan has done an exceptional job with the tragically limited resources at her disposal.

Gallery view of Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me, showing Portfolio: a Magizine for the Graphic Arts, Summer 1950, photos by Irving Penn.

Photo courtesy of the Barnes Foundation

“Astonish me!” had been the mantra of Sergei Diaghilev, the impresario who aimed to revitalize Russian culture – and promote it to the West - with his Ballets Russes dance company in the years before World War I. 

Forced to leave Russia, following the Bolshevik victory in 1920, Brodovitch found himself "down and out in Paris." He joined the ranks of the Russian diaspora which numbered Sergei Rachmaninoff, George Balanchine, Vladimir Nabokov and others. 

Rachmaninoff's heartbreaking remark after escaping from Russia - "I left behind my desire to compose: losing my country, I lost myself also." - did not apply to the much-younger Brodovitch. Ever resilient, he worked at a variety of jobs in Paris, including house painting. But then his luck turned and he was hired to help create the sets for the Ballets Russes during the last years of the fabled company, exiled like him to France.

As the Barnes exhibition details, Brodovitch engaged and experimented in many artistic media during the 1920’s. Brodovitch actually had little formal training in the arts before leaving Russia. There are few visible testaments to Russian culture in his surviving work, but Brodovitch had seemingly imbibed the insatiable thirst for artistic experimentation that characterized Russia in the years before World War I and the 1917 Revolution.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

 Alexey Brodovitch's study for head-piece illustration

 for John Milton's A Brief History of Moscovia, 1929

Adversity opened Brodovitch's eyes to the radical innovations taking place in post-war Europe. Dada, Surrealism, the Bauhaus school in Germany and the Neo-Classicism championed by Jean Cocteau provided a rich bounty of new ideas and techniques which Brodovitch assimilated during the 1920's.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

Gallery view of Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me at the Barnes Foundation

Eager to make his mark, Brodovitch took on a dizzying variety of tasks, at the same time as he painted backdrop scenery for the Ballets Russes. Brodovitch illustrated books, designed commercial advertisements and experimented with furniture design. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

 Alexey Brodovitch's Floor chair (Model 1211-C), 1948

One of the galleries of the Barnes Foundation exhibition brilliantly surveys his eclectic creativity to the full. The amazing floor chair, which Brodovitch later donated to MOMA, dates to after the Second World War, but certainly testifies to his incredible burst of ingenuity and energy during the 1920's.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

 Alexey Brodovitch's frontispiece for Franz Toussaint's Ramayana,1927

Brodovitch's illustrations for books and advertisements demonstrated a modernist flair. But he was equally adept at integrating stylistic elements from earlier periods of art history or exotic cultures. In 1924, Brodovitch created a poster in support of a benefit event, the Bal Banal, organized by the Union of Russian Artists. He evoked the bygone world of 18th century Venice set against a strident, industrial-age typeface. Brodovitch was especially proud of this mask design, which reappeared in later work.

Alexey Brodovitch, Poster for Bal Banal, 1924

Although scholars now discern that Brodovitch had little daily contact with Diaghilev while working on Ballets Russes sets, the example of the aging impresario was all important. Diaghilev was still a bold, risk-taker. He taught his dancers and designers how to “astonish”, to expand the mind and vision of the audience, not just entertain them. This was an approach which Brodovitch embraced as the guiding principle of his oeuvre.

Diaghilev died in 1929. A year later, Brodovitch emigrated to the United States. He accepted a teaching position at the Pennsylvania Museum and School of Industrial Art, now the University of the Arts in Philadelphia. Brodovitch taught there from 1930-1934. He engaged in multi-tasking as he had done in Europe, notably design work for the Saks Fifth Avenue store.

Brodovitch launched his teaching in the U.S.with a zeal for the unconventional which became his "signature" style. He initiated an innovative instructional methodology, entitled the Design Laboratory. These were proactive group sessions which encouraged individual exploration by students rather than assimilating a set body of precepts. Several generations of leading American photographers and artists benefited from Brodovitch's unorthodox and sometimes unsparing teaching.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

 Henri Cartier-Bresson's Alexey Brodovitch, 1962

Reading about Brodovitch's Design Laboratory in the outstanding exhibition catalog resolved the mystery of why the Barnes Foundation mounted Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me. Normally, special exhibitions at the Barnes relate in some way to the art theories of Dr. Albert Barnes or to collection highlights like the works of Cezanne, Modigliani, etc. 

So what was the connection of Alexey Brodovitch to the Barnes Foundation? Education is the key to understanding both, pedagogy of the kind which promotes perception on an individual level, not "group think." Both Barnes in his Merion, PA, establishment and Brodovitch in his Design Laboratory encouraged looking at the world in unique, unconventional ways. 

“The Girl of Tomorrow”, Harper’s Bazaar, February, 1939. 

Collection of Vince Aletti

Brodovitch took that same approach to design with him when he signed on as art director at Harper's Bazaar. During his long years at the magazine, 1934-1959, he was to hire many of his students from the Design Laboratory as photographers: Irving Penn, Richard Avedon and Eve Arnold, to name a few.

Initially, it was Brodovitch's connections to leading artists in Europe which were crucial to creating a new aesthetic for Harper's Bazaar. Brodovitch was intrigued by the design possibilities of Surrealism. Images by Man Ran, Salvador Dali and Lizette Model were featured in the magazine. 

Another major talent, A,M, Cassandre, more famous today for his Art Deco posters of French ocean liners and speeding trains, worked with Brodovitch to create an unintentionally surreal cover for Harper's Bazaar. 

A.M. Cassandre, Harper’s Bazaar, September 15, 1939

Collection of Vince Aletti

Cassandre's design of a bevy of glaring eyes appeared on the magazine's cover two weeks after the outbreak of World War II. Of course, when the cover was being planned during the summer of 1939, the intended theme was the autumn Paris fashion shows. Instead, the fierce stare of these eyes bespeak fear of spies and saboteurs. Events were to prove even more surreal than Alexey Brodovitch could foresee.

When war came to the United States in December 1941, Brodovitch's artistic talents were placed at the service of the Allied war effort.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

 Alexey Brodovitch’s 1942 Poster, 

Freedom of Speech, One of the Four Freedoms for which the Allies Fight

The Barnes exhibition highlights one of Brodovitch's wartime posters, an effort to popularize the Allied "Four Freedoms" policy. Alarmed by the spread of support for Nazi Germany in certain areas of Latin America, this brilliant design emphasizes the effectiveness, literally and figuratively, of Freedom of Speech over Nazi idealogy. Brodovitch's design surely ranks as one of the most memorable images of Allied propaganda during the Second World War.

With so much ground to cover and a shortage of works of art actually created by Brodovitch, Katy Wan wisely chose a focused appraisal of several especially striking Harper's Bazaar articles, designed by Brodovitch. As a result, we see how photographer and art director can work together to create indelible imagery.

Certain photos, occasionally, create a force field of their, making them stand-out seemingly of their own accord. This is not always to the ultimate advantage of the photographer.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

Richard Avedon's Dovima with Elephants, Evening Dress by Dior,1955

Such was the case with Richard Avedon's now-iconic photo of the fashion model, Dovima, posing in the latest Paris fashions of 1955 with a pair of elephants. Both Avedon and Brodovitch knew this was the standout from the photo-shoot and Brodovitch gave it a full-page spread in Harper's Bazaar. In time, Avedon came to view the success of Dovima with Elephants as a mixed-blessing, a photo whose fame obscured his skill and originality.

Brodovitch was a superlative photographer, himself, no doubt a major reason he was so respected by Avedon and other graduates of the Design Laboratory. Even Henri Cartier-Bresson paid Brodovitch the supreme accolade of allowing him to crop his photos appearing in Harper's Bazaar.

When it came to his own photos, Brodovitch revealed a heedless, rule-breaking genius for taking memorable pictures, countered by a self-effacing caution when it came to publishing them.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

Alexey Brodovitch’s Ballet, published, 1945, with text by Edwin Denby

Of necessity, his photo masterpiece, Ballet, is central to any understanding of Brodovitch as a photographer and artist. The Barnes exhibition has several of the photos from this very rare book on display. It is a tremendous privilege to be able to view them and  the experience is further enhanced by the superlative essay in the exhibition catalog, written by David Campany of the International Center of Photography.

"A ballet is an event in time," Campany writes, "and all that remains once it is over are fragmentary impressions."

When Brodovitch came to America in 1930, all he had  left of his Ballet Russes experience - and by extension, his Russian homeland - were his memories. In 1935, he began to document performances in New York by the successor company, the Ballet Russes of Monte Carlo. Needless to say, Brodovitch chose unconventional vantage points for his picture taking. Straining the boundary of photography even further, Brodovitch stressed the ethereal nature of dance with unorthodox, unsettling camera effects.

Alexey Brodovitch, The Sylphs (Les Sylphides), 1935/37

As David Campany points out, Brodovitch did not use a high speed camera (readily available in the 1930's) mounted on a tripod to take carefully focused pictures. Instead, he photographed the dancers with a hand-held 35 mm with slow shutter speed and natural light.

The resultant pictures would hardly be recognized as photos by the professional  standards of the day. We can see them for what they are: images of the sensations we feel while watching a ballet and the "fragmentary impressions" which remain when it is over.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

 Alexey Brodovitch’s Ballet (Septieme Symphony), 1938

Alexey Brodovitch, Les Noces (The Wedding), 1930's

Alexey Brodovitch, Tricorn, 1935 

Brodovitch also evoked the off-stage atmosphere of the ballet, moments of ease and unease of the dancers and audience following a soul-stirring performance. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

 Alexey Brodovitch’s Irina Baronova (Detail),1935

The candid "portraits" Brodovitch took, such as this incredible image of the ballerina, Irina Baronova (1919-2008), were hugely influential, shaping the way that Richard Avedon would photograph actors, authors and celebrities during the 1950's and 1960's.

Having created a body of unsurpassed photos, Brodovitch kept them from display. Only in 1945, did he publish a selection in Ballet, a limited edition book which was never sold commercially. Brodovitch gave copies away, but most of the remaining stock went up in flames in the 1956 house fires.

Ballet became a cult classic, cherished by a small but elite circle of photographers, designers, museum curators and art collectors. This was Brodovitch's fate, as well. His last years, especially following the death of his beloved wife, Nina, in 1959, were marked by illness, injury and depression which led him to cease teaching his Design Laboratory in the early 1960's.

Alexey Brodovitch died in 1971. Largely forgotten by the public at the time of his death, Brodovitch was revered by photographers "in the know." 

For these image-makers, Brodovitch remained a commanding figure. We see him in that mode in the photo of him taken by the celebrated fashion-photographer, Hiro. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

Gallery view of the Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me exhibition, showing

Brodovitch reviewing page layouts for Richard Avedon's Observations 

Like a Diaghilev-style impresario, Brodovitch strides around the layout of one of his last edited publications, Observations, with pictures by Avedon and text by Truman Capote. The large-scale print at the entrance of the Barnes is simply awesome and I remained rooted before it for quite some time.

Irving Penn, who had studied in the early, 1930's Philadelphia-based Design Laboratory, summed-up Alexey Brodovitch as only a person who truly knew him could do so: 

This curious, remarkable man who managed somehow to germinate seeds of talent unknown even to the person who carried them. He did this with such regularity and over such a long period of time that chance could not be the explanation.

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves

Original Photography: Copyright of Anne Lloyd

Introductory photo: Hiro (Japanese-American, 1930-2021)  Alexey Brodovitch reviewing page layouts for Richard Avedon's Observations (detail), 1959. © 2024 Estate of Y. Hiro Wayabayashi. 

Alexey Brodovitch (American, born Russia, 1898-1971) Cover illustration for Harper's Bazaar, November 1935. Collection of Vince Aletti. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)  Katy Wan, curator of Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me at the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia.

Gallery view of Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me at the Barnes Foundation, showing Portfolio: a Magizine for the Graphic Arts, no.2,  Summer 1950 (photos by Irving Penn). Designed by Alexey Brodovitch and published by Zebra Press, Cincinnati, Ohio. Photo, courtesy of the Barnes Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)  Alexey Brodovitch's study for head-piece illustration for John Milton's A Brief History of Moscovia, 1929. Opaque watercolor, with incising: 9 7/8 x 7 3/4 in. (25.1 x 19.7 cm) Philadelphia Museum of Art collection.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)  Gallery view of Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me at the Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)  Alexey Brodovitch's Floor chair (Model 1211-C), 1948. plywood, wooden dowels and plastic-covered cord: 23 3/4 x 23 1/2 x 28 in. (60.3 x 59.7 x 71.1 cm) Given by Alexey Brodovitch to the Museum of Modern Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)  Alexey Brodovitch's illustration for Franz Toussaint's Ramayana, published in 1927. Engraving: 5 x 4 in. (12.7 x 10.2 cm) Collection of Dr. Curt Lund.

Alexey Brodovitch (American, born Russia, 1898-1971) Poster for Bal Banal, 1924. Hand colored litograph: 15 1/2 x 22 1/2 in. (39.4 x 57.2 cm) Collection of Dr. Curt Lund.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Henri Cartier-Bresson's Alexey Brodovitch, 1962. Gelatin silver print:: 8 x 11 3/4 in. (20.2 x 29.9 cm) Philadelphia Museum of Art. collection of Dorothy Norman, 1971.

“The Girl of Tomorrow”, Harper’s Bazaar, February, 1939. Collection of Vince Aletti. Harper’s Bazaar, Hearst Magazine media, Inc. © 2024

A.M. Cassandre, Harper’s Bazaar, September 15, 1939. Collection of Vince Aletti. Harper’s Bazaar, Hearst Magazine media, Inc. © 2024 Approval A.M. Cassandre/ Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)  Alexey Brodovitch’s Poster, Freedom of Speech, One of the Four Freedoms for which the Allies Fight, 1942. Lithograph: 39 1/8 x 28 1/2 in. (99.4 x 72.4 cm) Museum of Modern Art collection.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Richard Avedon's Dovima with Elephants, Evening Dress by Dior, Cirque d'Hiver, Paris, August 1955. Gelatin Silver print mounted on linen: 86 x 70 in. (218.4 x 177.8 cm) courtesy of the Richard Avedon Foundation.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Alexey Brodovitch’s Ballet, published, 1945. Text by Edwin Denby. J.J. Augustin, NY, publisher: 143 pages, 103 illustrations.

Alexey Brodovitch (American, born Russia, 1898–1971) The Sylphs (Les Sylphides), 1935/37. Gelatin silver print (Image/paper): 8 1/8 × 10 7/8 in.(20.5 × 27.6 cm) Art Institute of Chicago. Purchased with funds provided by Karen and Jim Frank. # 2001.401

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Alexey Brodovitch’s Ballet (Septieme Symphony), 1938. Gelatin silver print: 8 × 10 7/8 in.(20.4 x 27.5 cm) National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C. 

Alexey Brodovitch (American, born Russia, 1898–1971) Les Noces (The Wedding), 1930's. Gelatin silver prin: (8 5/8 x 12 5/8 in. (22 x 32.2 cm) Philadelphia Museum of Art, Collection of Dorothy Norman, 1968

Alexey Brodovitch (American, born Russia, 1898–1971) Tricorn, 1935. Gelatin silver print: 10 1/2 x 13 3/8 in. (26.7 x 34 cm Philadelphia Museum of Art, Collection of Dorothy Norman, 1968

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Alexey Brodovitch’s Irina Baronova (Detail),1935. Gelatin silver print: 8 ¾ x 13 7/16 in. (32.2 x 34.1 cm) Philadelphia Museum of Art, Collection of Dorothy Norman, 1968

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of Alexey Brodovitch: Astonish Me at the Barnes Foundation, showing  Alexey Brodovitch reviewing page layouts for Observations in Richard Avedon's studio, photo by Hiro Wakabayashi, 1959.